Mark withdrew his hand and grabbed hold of the cupboard, which swung open to reveal a windowless space beyond. 'This was Sauniere's hiding place. Whatever else he brought back with those rocks was stored here. Few know of this addition. Sauniere created it during the church remodeling. Plans for this building, prior to 1891, show it as an open room.'
Mark withdrew an automatic pistol from beneath his jacket. 'We'll wait in here and see what happens.'
'Does de Roquefort know of this room?'
'We'll find out shortly.'
FORTY-TWO
DE ROQUEFORT STOPPED OUTSIDE THE CHURCH. ODD THAT HIS targets had fled inside. But no matter. He was going to personally tend to Mark Nelle. His patience was at an end. He'd taken the precaution of consulting with his officers before leaving the abbey. He wasn't going to repeat the former master's mistakes. His tenure would at least carry the appearance of a democracy. Thankfully, yesterday's escape and the two shootings had galvanized the brotherhood onto a singular path. All agreed that the former seneschal and his ally must be returned for punishment.
And he intended to deliver.
He surveyed the street.
The crowd was growing. A warm day had brought out the tours. He turned to the brother standing beside him. 'Go inside and assess the situation.'
A nod and the man walked off.
He knew the church's geography. Only one way in and out. The stained-glass windows were all fixed, so they would have to shatter one to escape. He saw no policemen, which was normal for Rennes. Little ever happened here except the spending of money. The commercialization sickened him. If it was his decision, all tours of the abbey would be stopped. He realized the bishop would question that move, but he'd already decided to limit access to only a few hours on Saturdays, citing the brothers' need for more solitude. That the bishop would understand. He fully intended on restoring many of the old ways, practices that had long been abandoned, rituals that once separated the Templars from all other religious orders. And for that he would need the abbey's gates locked far more than they were open.
The brother he'd sent inside exited the church and walked his way.
'They're not there,' the man said as he drew close.
'What do you mean?'
'I searched the nave, the sacristy, the confessionals. They're not inside.'
He did not want to hear that. 'There's no other exit.'
'Master, they're not there.'
His gaze locked on the church. His mind swirled with possibilities.
Then the answer was clear.
'Come,' he said. 'I know precisely where they are.'
STEPHANIE WAS LISTENING TO ROYCE CLARIDON, NOT AS A WIFE and mother on a mission important to her family, but as the head of a covert government agency that dealt routinely in espionage and counterespionage. Something was out of place. Claridon's sudden appearance was too convenient. She knew little about Raymond de Roquefort, but she knew enough to realize that either Claridon had been allowed to escape or, worse, the prickly little man sitting across from her was in league with the enemy. Either way she had to watch what she said. Geoffrey, too, had apparently sensed something since he was offering precious little to the Frenchman's many questions-too many inquiries for a man who'd just survived a life-and-death experience.
'Was the woman last night in the palace Cassiopeia Vitt, the Ingenieur mentioned in the letter to Ernst Scoville?' she asked.
'I would assume. A she-devil.'
'She may have saved us all.'
'How? She interfered, as she did with Lars.'
'You're alive right now thanks to her interference.'
'No, madame. I am alive because they want information.'
'What I wonder is why you're even here,' Geoffrey said from his position by the window. 'Escaping from de Roquefort is not easy.'
'You did.'
'And how would you know that?'
'They spoke of you and Mark. Apparently there was shooting. Brothers were hurt. They're angry.'
'Did they mention attempting to kill us?'
A moment of uneasy silence passed.
'Royce,' Stephanie said. 'What else might they be after?'
'I only know that two books are missing from their archive. There was a mention of that.'
'You just said a moment ago that you possessed no clue as to why they wanted Madame Nelle's son.' Suspicion laced Geoffrey's declaration.
'And I don't. But I know they want the two missing books.'
Stephanie glanced at Geoffrey and saw not a hint of acquiescence in the younger man's expression. If indeed he and Mark possessed the books de Roquefort sought, no admission came from his eyes.
'Yesterday,' Claridon said, 'you showed me Lars's journal and the book-'
'Which de Roquefort has.'
'No. Cassiopeia Vitt stole both from him last night.'
Another new piece of information. Claridon knew an awful lot for a man whom his captors supposedly ignored.
'So de Roquefort needs to find her,' she made clear. 'As we do.'
'It seems, madame, that one of the books Mark took from their archive also contains a cryptogram. De Roquefort wants that book back.'
'Is this more of what you overheard?'
Claridon nodded. 'Oui. They believed me asleep, but I was listening. One of their marshals, from Sauniere's time, discovered the cryptogram and recorded it in the book.'
'We have no books,' Geoffrey said.
'What do you mean?' Astonishment filled the man's face.
'We have no books. We left the abbey in a great rush and took nothing with us.'
Claridon came to his feet. 'You're a liar.'
'Bold words. Can you prove the allegation?'
'You're a man of the Order. A warrior of Christ. A Templar. Your oath should be enough to prevent you from lying.'
'And what prevents you?' Geoffrey asked.
'I don't lie. I've been through a difficult ordeal. I hid in an asylum for five years to avoid being a prisoner of the Templars. Do you know what they planned to do to me? Grease my feet and hold them before a hot brazier. Cook my skin from the bone.'
'We have no books. De Roquefort is chasing a shadow.'
'But that's not so. Two men were shot during your escape, and both said Mark carried a rucksack.'
She perked at the information.
'And how would you know that?' Geoffrey asked.
DE ROQUEFORT ENTERED THE CHURCH, FOLLOWED BY THE brother who'd just been inside. He walked down the center aisle and entered the sacristy. He had to give Mark Nelle credit. Few knew about the church's secret room. It was not part of any tour, and only Rennes purists would have any inkling the concealed space existed. He'd
